


The Dwarven Archer

by Isa_Iadel



Series: To Hold Hope In My Hands [1]
Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Archery, Eventual Happy Ending, Feelings, Gandalf Meddles, Kili wants to be an archer, Legolas and Aragorn are besties, M/M, Romance, Soul Bond, Stubborn families
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-25
Updated: 2013-08-25
Packaged: 2017-12-24 16:21:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,590
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/942026
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Isa_Iadel/pseuds/Isa_Iadel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Though his father would prefer he avoid association with a wizard as scandalous as Mithrandir, Legolas couldn't say no the wizard's request of a favor.  When Legolas left Mirkwood, he had no idea that his agreement to take on an unnamed student would set his feet on a path he could not turn away from.  To find his soul mate is a gift, but the obstacles before them seem insurmountable.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Dwarven Archer

**Author's Note:**

> Because I wanted to write a story with archers
> 
> Unbetaed, so all errors are mine.
> 
> This is first of approximately six parts
> 
>  
> 
> Do not reproduce

**The Dwarven Archer**

 

 <\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------->

 

Though he had counted the Grey Pilgrim a friend for many decades, Legolas Thranduilion found himself strangely silent as they made their way from Mirkwood to a final destination that the Istari had not yet shared.  Legolas did not know exactly what Gandalf had said to persuade his father to allow him to leave their borders and was unsure if he ought be excited or trepidations.  It was often difficult to predict such things with Gandalf.  And it had been so terribly long since Legolas left home that whatever words Gandalf had offered his father must have been terribly persuasive. 

            They had been out of Mirkwood for a while and despite his almost infinite patience, watching Gandalf do nothing more than smoke his pipe as they rode leisurely began to frustrate Legolas.

            “Mithrandir.”

            “Hmm, Greenleaf?”

            Legolas smiled a little at the childhood nickname, “Might I know why you requested my company for this journey?  Or perhaps where we are going?”

            Gandalf studied him briefly, “It is nothing I have not requested of you before, Legolas.”

            Legolas felt himself smiling hopefully, “Are we going to Rivendell?”

            “It is not our destination, though we will pass through its borders,” Gandalf admitted.  “Our final destination is further west.”

            “So we do not travel to see Estel?”

            “We do not,” Gandalf confirmed, “Though I will see what can be done to rendezvous with him at some point.”

            Legolas kept his thoughts to himself for a time.  It had been an unfortunately long time since he had seen his former pupil and perhaps favorite friend.  His close friendship with the man had never particularly pleased his father, but from the moment Gandalf has persuaded him to meet Estel and take him as his student a close bond had developed between the pair.  That they did not travel to see him was a disappointment and left Legolas at a loss as to what might require his presence in the West.

            “The knowledge of what we will not do has not enlightened me as to what you intend for us to do, Mithrandir.”

            “It should please me greatly, Legolas, if you would again allow me to engage your services as instructor.”

            “You wish for me to teach another to use a bow?”

            “Indeed.”

            “Usually those seeking my knowledge travel to Mirkwood and present themselves in person,” Legolas commented lightly.  “The last time you wished me to take on a student who could not come to Mirkwood, it was Estel.”

            “Which gained you a lasting friend.”

            “That is true,” Legolas agreed, “And though it caused more than a few difficulties with my father, I will always be grateful for the introduction which resulted in such a friendship.  You requested that I travel to Rivendell to instruct Estel because my father was unlikely to permit him residence in Mirkwood for the amount of time my instruction would require.”

            “And because I worried that his skill was not yet sufficient to safely travel to you.  A situation that your tutelage did much to remedy.”

            “No more than age and experience,” Legolas replied.  “Is that why you ask for me to go this new student?  Because you feel they are not yet experienced enough to defend themselves on the road to Mirkwood?”

            “Not entirely,” Gandalf admitted slowly.

“Then it is because you do not believe my father would permit this person to remain in Mirkwood.”

            “I think between the objections of your father and their kin, this individual has absolutely no chance of obtaining your instruction without my assistance.”

            Legolas studied Gandalf carefully, “Assistance or interference?”

Gandalf merely smiled.

“You must think this person has remarkable potential to go to such lengths.”

“Indeed, I do,” Gandalf agreed.  “He has done as much as an untrained person can do to teach himself and I believe it would be a shame to let such talent go to waste.  He will be a remarkable pupil for you, Greenleaf.”

  “So my intended student is male?  Might I know his name?”

“In due time, my friend.  For now I ask that you trust me with the particulars.”

“Very well, Mithrandir.”

His curiosity was partially satisfied, though not at all dimmed, and Legolas knew Gandalf well enough to know that he would say no more until he was entirely ready.  He had not been wrong about Estel and therefore Legolas was willing to trust that he was not wrong about this new pupil.  The more they traveled the more the idea excited him.  It was always a pleasure to share his knowledge of his craft with another and from Gandalf’s descriptions his new pupil would be very eager to learn.  And the last time he had taken a pupil at Gandalf’s behest had turned out so well that he was more than willing to allow for some enigma in the process of gaining another one.  The thought that he might gain another friend such as Estel warmed him.

They traveled easily and with little delay to the High Pass and as they began to approach Rivendell a sudden question occurred to Legolas.

“Mithrandir, whatever did you say to my father to permit him to allow me to leave Mirkwood?”

Gandalf laughed at the question, “Thranduil may find me unusual-”

“The word he most often uses is scandalous,” Legolas interrupted with a grin.

Gandalf’s smile widened, “Is it?  I find myself flattered.  My exact words, however, are best left between Thranduil and I.”

“You need not keep as many secrets as you do, Mithrandir.  I have agreed to take on this student.  There is no reason for you to continue to conceal their identity.”

Still he would not stay and when they stopped to let the wizard rest, Legolas was sure his mind was far too active for sleep.  Gandalf woke to relieve him and despite his insistence that he did not need sleep, the wizard persuaded him to lie down to rest and Legolas was surprised to feel himself drifting off to sleep.

_Legolas stood directly behind his pupil, hands resting lightly on his shoulders._

_“Relax.”  Legolas took a small step backwards.  “Inhale deeply and slowly as you take aim.  Exhale slowly and release the bowstring.”_

_He followed the command, lowering his bow only when the arrow struck the center of the target.  He was still for a moment longer, more out of surprise than anything else.  Legolas let out a quiet laugh, “Very good.  You are improving exponentially.”  Still he did not turn around and Legolas tilted his head a little.  When his inquiry was ignored, Legolas shifted to stand in front of his student and met his dark brown eyes._

_“What is it?”_

_“I’d feign incompetence if only it might keep you here for a little longer.”_

_Legolas reached out and caught one of the dark braids between his fingers.  “I cannot-”_

_“I know.  But when you go you’ll be taking my heart with you.”_

_“Then you will never be without one, for when I depart I shall leave my own behind in your care.”_

Legolas woke suddenly and was alarmed by the certainty what his dream had not been some nonsensical fantasy.  He felt as though his destiny stretched before him as path that he could not deviate from.  Shifting on his bedroll, he realized that Mithrandir was watching him.

“Do you know the path you have set me on?” Legolas asked quietly.

The wizard straightened, “It must be done.”

“You have bound my feet to this path like a geas,” Legolas said carefully, “I must see this through.  I could not turn from your request now even if I wished to.  Did you know? Did you know this would happen and hide it from me?”

“No,” he replied.  “I believed you would agree to my request and that it would be beneficial to everyone involved, but I never imagined this event would be so powerful, so shaping.  This just further proves how necessary this is.  You need to teach him.”  Gandalf frowned a little, “Legolas, what did your dream reveal to you?”

“I will not say.”

“Legolas-”

“You have enough secrets for ten men, Mithrandir,” Legolas said firmly, “Wherever we are going and whomsoever we shall meet, it will be so powerful that I am already bound to this strand of fate and still you keep the particulars a secret. Let me have this one to myself.”  The dark eyes of the man from his dream haunted him and as compelled as he felt to go forward, he desperately wanted to run away.  The pain in their voices… he was far from prepared for that.  Gandalf might not be wrong, but that didn’t mean that any of this was guaranteed to go well.

Legolas did his best to push it from his mind as they approached Rivendell and a welcome guard rode out to meet them led by the son’s of Lord Elrond.  Elladan and Elrohir were both older than Legolas and due to the tension between their fathers Legolas had never called them friends, but he respected them.  The twins greeted Gandalf happily and Legolas as politely, if perhaps less enthusiastically.  Estel, to his disappointment, was not among them and when Legolas enquired they were quick to reply that Estel was not in Rivendell. Elrohir kept Gandalf company for the reminder of the ride to Rivendell and to Legolas’s surprise Elladan hung back to ride beside him.

“Hail, Thranduilion.”

“Elladan.”

They had always called him Thranduilion as through he was an extension of his father instead of his son.  He’d long since given up wishing that people would view him as his own self instead of in the shadow of Thranduil. There were precious few who ever had.  When he had still been a child, Legolas had yearned for a friendship with elves his age and for a time he had hoped he might succeed with Elladan and Elrohir, but his efforts had been fruitless.

“What brings you to Rivendell?”

Legolas answered the question evenly.  Though there was no obvious suspicion in Elladan’s words, he knew they would have preferred Gandalf visit without him.  “Mithrandir.  He has requested my presence and our journey brings us through these borders.”

“What is your final destination?”

“West,” Legolas replied.  “I know nothing beyond that and if you wish to know more you must consult with Mithrandir.”

“So you do not intend to once again take advantage of my father’s hospitality?” Elladan questioned.

Legolas did not bother to try and guess in which manner Elladan intended the question because such games held little interest to him.  “If Estel is not at home than I have no reason to linger beyond whatever time Mithrandir wishes to spend visiting your Lord father.”

“I did not mean to imply-”

“It matters not,” Legolas said simply.  “If I might change the subject, when have you last seen Estel?”

“It has been five weeks,” Elladan replied after a moment.

“And he was well?”

“Yes,” Elladan.

“I am glad to hear it,” Legolas replied, and nothing more was said between the two of them before they reached Rivendell.

They reached Rivendell and after greeting Lord Elrond, Legolas did his best to escape to the gardens.  Gandalf had requested they stay long enough to rest for the night and Legolas was relieved that he intended for them to depart in the morning.  Rivendell was more comfortable than the road, but Legolas did not prefer to linger where his welcome was not entirely sincere.  He had managed it before for Estel, but had no desire to do it again.

“Legolas Thranduilion.”

Legolas stood at the soft words and bowed his head respectfully as the speaker came into view.  “Arwen Undomiel.  Good evening.”

“My brothers told me you were here.  Estel will be saddened to know he missed your visit to Rivendell.”

“Perhaps you would be good enough to pass along my regards when he returns?”

“Of course,” she promised.  “How is your father?  Is everything well in Mirkwood?”

“My father is well and Mirkwood thrives,” Legolas replied.  “Rivendell looks as beautiful as ever.”

Arwen inclined her head at the compliment.  “The evening meal is prepared.  Shall I escort you?”

“Thank you, Lady Arwen.”

It was as though trouble went out of its way to avoid them.  After setting out from Rivendell they encountered nothing unpleasant as they made their way along the West-East Road towards Bree.  Gandalf announced they would stop in the town for a few nights and after some adjustments to his hair and clothing Legolas was able to pass as a mortal man if he avoided undue scrutiny.  The people of Bree had no particular dislike of Elves, but Legolas preferred not to stand out.

Bree was loud, dirty and alarmingly boisterous.  Legolas avoided Men’s alcohol and amused himself with a new book he had purchased at the market while Gandalf tended to whatever his business was by himself.  A week had passed before Legolas began to wish they would move on.  The feeling became particularly strong as he partook of his evening meal alone, Gandalf had still yet to return, and noticed the gaze of one of the Men lingering.

The man offered a leering smile and was on his feet and headed towards Legolas when another man dropped into the open seat beside him and placed a hand over his thigh.  The approaching man huffed, but went to the bar instead of continuing towards Legolas.  The Elf was still for a moment before turning his attention towards the hooded figure at his side.

“You will remove your hand or I will remove your fingers.”

“Truly?” the man asked, “And undo all your hard work when I am unable to wield a bow any longer?”

Legolas relaxed and smiled, “Despite all my hard work I know very well that you prefer your sword, Estel.”

Estel pushed his hood back and returned the smile, “Hello, Legolas.”

“Is this why Mithrandir has insisted we linger here for so long?”

“I rode hard to catch you up once I received word from him,” Estel admitted, “But I could not pass up this opportunity to visit you when your father has finally let you pass through the borders of Mirkwood.  Mithrandir tells me he has persuaded you to take a new student.  Is this true?”

“Indeed,” Legolas admitted, “Though I do not yet know the identity.”

“Well it is unlikely that I will be with you when you find out, but I am able to escort you a little ways further than your crossing of the North South Rd.”

“I am always glad of your company, my friend,” Legolas assured him.  “Tell me about your life as of late for it has been far too long since we spoke and you have never put much details into your letters.”

“Neither do you, Greenleaf,” Estel chastised. 

“That is because nothing ever happens to me.  But I would hear of your adventures.”

Estel smiled, “As you wish.”

They spoke until Estel was yawning and Legolas insisted his friend retire for the evening.  He retired to his own room once again convinced that he would not resent but found himself lulled by the comfort of his bed and pleasure at seeing his friend again.

 _“_ _Urus_ _._ _Urus ni burza_ _._ _aras talbabi filluma_ _._ _Ugrud tashniki kurduma_ _._ _Lu_ _,_ _Lu_ _,_ _Lu_ _._ _Urkhas tanakhi.”  He paused, his brown eyes bright and his cheeks red from the evening cold.  “Do you know that song?”_

_“It’s the first stanza of the only Khuzdul song to honor an Elf.”_

_“We hate and fear balrogs more than we dislike Elves,” he said with a cheeky smile.  “Even my Uncle sings this song.  Have you ever met the balrog killer?”_

_“I have,” Legolas replied._

_“He must be the fiercest warrior in the world to have managed such a feat,” he replied, his voice tinged with awe._

Legolas woke and stared at the ceiling until Estel came to fetch him for breakfast.  He was slightly more forthcoming with his friend about his dreams than he had been with Gandalf, but he still kept most of it to himself.  The future, it seemed, would be bringing him something beautiful but also time limited.  He would love the brown-eyed male, but his dreams told him they would part and even though they had not yet met it was deeply troubling.  

Gandalf returned and found them during lunch that day, looking far wearier than when he had left.  Inquiries after his mood were met with some grumblings about stubbornness. 

“Mithrandir?”

Gandalf sighed tiredly and was quiet for a moment longer as he smoked his pipe.  “I have seen your pupil, Greenleaf, and he is eager for instruction.”

Legolas studied Gandalf carefully, “You said is he eager for instruction, not for my instruction.  Does this mean that he is as in the dark about my identity as I am about his?”

“Indeed.”

“You are the finest archer and the best instructor in all of Middle Earth,” Estel interjected, “Surely there can be no objections?  Even Lord Elrond agreed that Legolas was the best instructor.  When Legolas first came he told me I should be honored by his attention and tutelage.  He said your ability surpassed that of even your own instructor, Lord Haldir of Lorien.”

Legolas turned to Estel, “Did Lord Elrond truly say such?”

“He did,” Estel confirmed.  He turned his attention back to Gandalf, “Surely he understands the length you have gone to secure him such a knowledgeable instructor.”

“I have few concerns on that front.  It is his kin that are unreasonable.”

“They disapprove of me?” Legolas enquired.

“I have not even shared your name,” Gandalf admitted, “They disapprove of him becoming an archer.”

“Mithrandir,” Legolas said slowly, “Are you sure this is a wise venture?”  Though he acknowledged to himself that the folly of their journey did not matter.  He could not step off the path.

“Undoubtedly,” Gandalf assured him.  “But this is likely to be trying.”

“Yet you seem to think it is worth the frustration,” Legolas said.

“I do,” he replied.

“You were right about Estel.  I have no reason not to trust you again.”

Gandalf sighed a little, much of the tension leaving his shoulders, “Thank you, Greenleaf.”

They set out from Bree and rode through the Shire, stopping only for a delightful meal with some of Gandalf’s Halfling friends.  Many of them already knew Estel, though they called him Strider, and their company was very merry.  The meal came to an end as the sun was beginning to set and the young Hobbits did their best to persuade Gandalf to set off some of his famed fireworks.  He spent several minutes pretending to protest, but after much pleading agreed and the children shirked with joy.

            Legolas and Estel sat slightly apart from the others, chatting quietly, until a young Hobbit approached them and greeted Estel.

            “Good evening.”

            “Good evening to you, Bilbo Baggins,” Estel greeted.  “This is Legolas.  He is a very good friend and was once my archery instructor.  All my skill with a bow I learned from him.”

            “Good evening, Mr. Legolas.”

            Legolas smiled, “Just Legolas.”

            “Please call me Bilbo.  You were Strider’s instructor?  You taught him to fight?”

            “I played only a part in his ability with a bow,” Legolas corrected, “And much of his success is owed to his own stubborn determination.”

            “Well then you have our thanks,” Bilbo replied, “For his skills have done much to protect the Shire against Orc attacks.”

            “Orc attacks?” Legolas questioned, thoughtlessly slipping back into Sindarin.

            Estel nodded, “We are not entirely sure where they originated from, but they took hold in Weathertop.  It was not easy, but we managed to dismantle their stronghold.”

            Legolas kept his thoughts to himself until Bilbo excused himself to join the other teenagers watching the fireworks.  “Orcs, Estel?”

            Estel nodded gravely, “Though he does not fully admit it, Mithrandir is deeply concerned.  The moment we destroyed their stronghold he set out to get you.”

            “Truly?”

            Estel nodded, “I cannot begin to guess at who he wishes you to instruct, but I believe it is somehow connected to his long term plan is to deal with the Orcs.  For this is not the last we have seen of them,” Estel cautioned.  “To ignore their growing threat would be a mistake.”

            “Then I will do what I can,” Legolas promised.  “If my skills as instructor shall help than I will offer them for as long as they are needed.”

            They left the Shire the next day and continued West.  Gandalf shared a little about his concerns of Orc movement, but he still refused to elaborate of the identity of Legolas’s pupil.  As he said he would, Estel left them not long after the crossed the North South Road.  Legolas stood with Estel for a while before the Man departed.  They embraced before Estel left and Legolas thought to ask when he would see his friend again.  Knowing that the answer would likely not make their separation pass any faster, he did not ask.  It would likely be many years before he had the opportunity to see his friend again.  Estel had his obligations and Legolas had a duty to Mirkwood.  There was little that could be done about it.

 

 <\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------->

 

For a while after Estel departed, Legolas felt listless.  A few stories from Gandalf as they rode did a lot to cheer him up and worrying that his mood was affecting his companion Legolas did his best to keep his brooding to himself.  Legolas did not question Mithrandir again until the Blue Mountains came into view. 

“How much further West will we go, Mithrandir?”

Gandalf pointed to the Blue Mountains.

Legolas frowned a little, “surely you did not suspect I would hesitate to take any of the Sindar or Wood Elves as a student?”

“I have never thought on the matter.”

Legolas was still for a moment, “If my student is Avari I can understand why you hesitated to share such with my father, but surely you know that-”

“Your student is not Avari.”

Legolas stared at the Mountains and kept silent for a while.  There was only one possibility left and yet he could not imagine that it was possible.  “Do you intend for me to instruct a Dwarf?”

“I do,” Gandalf admitted.

“You thought I would object to this?”

“Not object,” Gandalf corrected, “I thought you would have some reservations about the idea.”

“I am surprised to hear of a Dwarf with such an interest, but I have no qualms about offering my tutelage for any interested pupil.” He was quiet for a moment, “The bow I have brought will be insufficient.  I must make a new one after I have met my student.  May I now know his name?”  Legolas stilled abruptly.  “You made reference to his kin objecting to archery lessons.  Will you further elaborate?”

“They associate archery with Elves,” Gandalf admitted.

“And they dislike Elves?” Legolas shook his head, “I did not realize there were Dwarves residing in the Blue Mountains with such a grudge against Elves…. Oh, Mithrandir.  Surely not.”  Legolas turned to face Gandalf as he finally realized the reason he withheld so much of the particulars. 

“Yes.”

“My student is an exile of Erebor?  This will never work.”

Gandalf stopped his horse, “Are you refusing?”

“No,” He said after a moment, despite the disappointment that was gathering in his stomach.  The hopes that he might make another friend like Estel were suddenly gone for he knew very well how the Dwarves of Erebor regarded Elves and his father in particular.  “I am bound to this path, but were I not I would still go forward.  I am curious about a Dwarf who would be an archer. But they will never accept the help of an Elf, let alone Thranduilion.”  And whatever promises he gleaned from his dreams were nothing more than a fantasy.

“His kin will require much persuasion and I think our likelihood would be bolstered if we left your name out of the debate.”

“You refer to me as Greenleaf far often than my given name.  I do not anticipate that will be a problem.  But Mithrandir-”

“This is important,” the wizard interrupted.  “Though he does not yet know it, Thorin Oakenshield desperately needs an archer among his company.”

“For what purpose?”

“To retake Erebor.”

Legolas had no response except to laugh, “While you have not shared whatever words to used to persuade my father, I know very well that those were not among them.  You intend to aid them in retaking Erebor.”  He paused for a moment, “Estel mentioned he thought you had a plan to deal with the Orc’s.  This is part of it.”

“Yes,” Gandalf agreed.

“I would know the name of my student, Mithrandir,” Legolas said firmly.  “I know everything else and have agreed to continue on anyway.”

“His name is Kili.”

“Kili,” Legolas repeated to himself because for some reason he quite liked the sound of the name.   And it was familiar. “Do you mean Kili Durin, sister son of Thorin Oakenshield?”

“Indeed, I do.  Shall we continue on?”

Legolas nodded slowly and urged his horse to continue on down the path and keep pace with Gandalf.  “Yes.  Yes, we shall.” There was nothing else to say on the matter.  The truth was that the exact identity of his student ought to have changed his mind despite that he’d come so far, but it did not.  There was no way that Gandalf was unaware of the consequences he would face if his father became aware of his activities.  Yet he has asked anyway.  Legolas did not doubt he would have found another way if he could and therefore he could not deny his friend.  “We will go forward and I will not go back on my word.  I keep my promise to teach the student you have only just told me is the sister son of Thorin Oakenshield not only because I shall never break my word, let alone to a friend such as you, but because I have no prejudice against the Dwarves of Erebor or the line of Durin and I have no qualms lending my knowledge to help them regain their home.  You need not have concealed any part of this from me, Mithrandir.  I would never have denied your request.”

Gandalf stared at Legolas, faint surprise coloring his features.  “I sometimes forget, Greenleaf, how very pure your heart is.  You are right.  I should have shared all the details with you at the beginning.  I should have known you would not need to be persuaded to help such a cause.”

“Indeed,” Legolas said simply and without any hint anger.  “I may be Thranduilion, but I am Legolas Thranduilion.  I hope… I hope you understand that, Mithrandir.”

“I do,” he said simply.  “And I will not forget again.”

“Thank you,” Legolas replied, and the matter was settled between them.

Gandalf sighed to himself because while Legolas was right, he could not afford to think that the Durin’s would share such a mentality.  It was going to be extremely difficult to persuade them to allow the youngest Durin to learn archery, let alone from an elf.  And all this was assuming that Thorin Oakenshield did not learn who Legolas was.

They traveled through the Blue Mountains easily and while Legolas glimpsed more than a few of the Avari, none of them approached.  His Sindarin and Wood Elf kin were far more welcoming and he greatly enjoyed sharing food and stories with them.  Once they reached the city of the Erebor dwarves, however, their reception was far chillier.  Thorin Oakenshield immediately sent word that he would not see them, which both Gandalf and Legolas took to mean he would not see an Elf.

“If you think you can persuade him differently, than go on without me,” Legolas encouraged Gandalf.  “I will remain in the forest outside the city.  If I have any problems I will seek out my Sindarin kin and do what I can to leave a trail for you to follow.  Agreed?”

“Agreed,” Gandalf replied and they separated at the entrance to the city.

            Legolas set up camp for himself a good distance from the city and to amuse himself reread the book he had purchased in Bree.  Gandalf did not come before he was finished so he set himself to making arrows in the event that he ended up with a student who might make use of them.  It was on his second day, while the shaft’s were still drying and he was seeing what might be done about arrowheads, when he first realized that someone was watching him.  It was only a singular person and since he sensed no hostility from them he let them go about their business without interruption.  Except they did nothing except continue to appear each morning and watch from their hiding place amongst the trees.

            A week had passed before one of the Sindarin noticed him and stopped to offer him some supplies, and whoever was watching him retreated further into the woods.

            “Thank you for your kindness.”

            The Elf bowed his head, “We are honored to share with the Prince of Mirkwood.  Are you aware you are being watched?”

            “Yes.”

            “And do you know their identity?”

            “I do not, but I do not believe there is any cause for alarm.”

            “Very well.  If you have need of anything, simply call for us and someone will come.”

            “You have my thanks, friend.”

            Once he was alone, the watcher crept forward and Legolas resisted the urge to smile.  He curled in on himself a little and his smile widened when his watcher crept closer to try and see what he was doing with the arrowheads.

            “Arrow making is no secret to be guarded closely,” Legolas called.  “You are very welcome to join me if you are so curious and I would be glad to share a little of my food and tea with you.”

            For a moment Legolas thought he had erred and scared him off, but after a moment a young dwarf stepped from the trees and hesitantly edged towards his camp.  His eyes were a familiar brown and Legolas did his best not to stare.  He was tall for a dwarf, but still a good deal shorter than Legolas, with a surprisingly short beard and long dark hair that was littered with small braids and beads.  He did not speak, but sat opposite Legolas and watched him avidly.  He did not seem to blink until Legolas put his materials aside to make tea and offer him a bit of food.

            He accepted the tea, but eyed the food hesitantly and shook his head.  A surprised smile spread over his features as he sipped the tea and he spoke when his cup was empty.  “Thank you.”

            “You are welcome,” Legolas replied.  “Are you, perhaps, Kili Durin?”

            “I am,” he admitted.  “Usually the Elves do not venture so close to the city so can I assume that you are the instructor Gandalf Greyhelm has brought to teach me archery?”

            “You can,” Legolas agreed.  “I was not expecting to meet you without Mithrandir.”

            Kili tilted his head a little, “Without who?”

            “Gandalf,” Legolas corrected himself, “I have always known him as Mithrandir.  Have your kin agreed to allow your lessons?”

            Kili shrugged, “I doubt it.  Uncle Thorin and Gandalf seem content to shout each other to death.  But I want to learn and I was curious.  I heard Gandalf mention you were camping in the forest outside the city so I came to see if I might find you.”

            “And now that you have found me?”

            “Will you teach me?”

            “I would not have come so far if I were unwilling to take you on as a pupil, Master Durin.  But I would not have you alienate your kin.”

            “I don’t- I’m not,” he shook his head, “You can call me Kili.”

            “Greenleaf.”

            Kili tilted his head.

            “I go by Greenleaf.”  It was not a name he used outside his closest friends, Gandalf or Estel were the main ones who addressed him so informally and despite his concerns about how his pupil would react to him he did not mind the familiarity.  From the hints in his dreams, he and Kili Durin were going to be quite close.  Kili, more so than anyone else, ought to refer to him comfortably. 

            He nodded, “Well met, Master Greenleaf.”

            Legolas smiled, “Just Greenleaf, I think.”

            “And will you teach me, Greenleaf?”

            Legolas hesitated, “If you gain permission from your kin.”

            Kili’s expression soured, “I am not a child.  I can do as I like.”

            “I will not insult your Uncle by instructing you behind his back at the gate of his city while knowing he is against it.  It will be counterproductive in the long run.”

            Most of the anger eased from Kili’s face, “And if he never agrees?”

            “I have every confidence that you can persuade him to your way of thinking.  Gandalf is a powerful ally.”  And he would.  His dreams had shown him that he would teach Kili.

            “I will not give up until he sees reason,” Kili swore, “but in the meantime, may I continue to visit you?  Just to….just to talk and so you don’t get too lonely out here alone.  I won’t pressure you for lessons.”  His brown eyes were bright with anticipation and Legolas could barely breath from it.

            “I would be glad of your company whenever you can spare the time, Kili,” Legolas replied.

            “Can I bring you anything?”

            Legolas smiled at the offer but shook his head, “Thank you, no.”

            Kili left not long after and it was soon too dark for Legolas to continue with his arrow making.  It was two days before anyway returned and Legolas was surprised to see that Kili returned to hiding in the woods and watching him from afar instead of joining him in is camp.  He was at a loss for how he had failed to make the Dwarf feel comfortable, but determined to renew his efforts.

            “Will you not join me, Kili?”

            Except it was not Kili who stepped out of the woods, but another Dwarf who was well armed with a sword and thunderous expression.  “So you have gone behind my Uncle’s back and sought to instruct my brother even though it has been forbidden?”

            Legolas remind still and kept his hands visible as the enraged Dwarf approached.  There was something in his face that reminded Legolas of Kili, and though his beard was longer he was not as tall.  Legolas recalled that Kili was the younger of Thorin Oakenshield’s sister sons, but could not recall his brothers name.

            “Arm yourself, Elf.”

            Legolas raised an eyebrow, “No.”

            “You refuse to-”

            “I have not given your brother any instruction.  We have met and spoken, that is all.  I invited him to return to my fire and assumed that you were he come to visit.”

            The dwarf calmed a little, “I would not see my brother hurt in whatever your game is, Elf.”

            “Gandalf asked me to instruct your brother in the ways of archery.  I have no other purpose in coming here.”

            He sneered, “Kili has no need for any instruction that you might be able to offer.”

            “I make no judgments about his need, but he has declared his interest to me.  If your Uncle permits it, I will teach him.”

            “He will not.  You will never gain his permission and this is all just a waste of time,” the dwarf growled.  “You will accomplish nothing except disappointing my brother and I will not stand for him to be hurt in all this.”

            “Then I will do my best to suffer the loss of teaching a pupil as passionate as your brother,” Legolas replied.

            “Just go home!” He shouted, “Go away from here and leave my brother alone before you hurt him.”

            The Dwarf left, shooting Legolas a final hostile look but without offering any final words.  After meeting Kili’s brother, Legolas lost all enthusiasm for making arrows because it seemed so unlikely that he would have a student to make use of them.  Had the future he had already glimpsed faded away into nothingness?  Since meeting Kili he had not felt quite so bound by the geas, but he still did not wish to leave.  But what else was there to do but go home?  Thorin Oakenshield would never agree and Legolas could not continue this knowing it might hurt Kili.  His dreams, it seemed, had misled him.

            The days passed slowly, broken up by random visits from the Sindarin Elves, and Legolas waited for Gandalf to appear and tell him it was time to return to Mirkwood.  Perhaps if he could find Estel again before returning home so the journey would not feel like such a complete failure.  Maybe the feeling of heavy stones resting against his chest would ease. 

            He sensed the approach of someone who was not an Elf but unsure if it was Kili or his brother, he did not call out.  Kili joined him a moment later, but froze when he was close enough to see the expression Legolas wore and the lack of progress he’d made with the arrows.  “What’s wrong, Greenleaf?”

            Legolas did not reply and Kili’s expression fell.

            “You have given up.”

            “I will stay as long as Mithrandir has hope he can persuade your Uncle.  I promised I would try and I will, but-”

            “But you have given up?” Kili demanded.  “You have done almost nothing to these arrows since I last saw you.”

            “I had a visit from your brother and-”

            “What?!”

            Legolas quieted for a moment, “I am not the only one who could teach you archery, Kili.”

            Some of his anger ebbed, “What do you mean?”

            “There are others,” Legolas explained.  “I can recommend several talented archers who would serve you well as an instructor.”

            “No.”

            “They are not Elves and perhaps that will lessen your Uncles hostility to the idea.”

            “No,” Kili insisted.

            “My top choice would be Strider.  He is a good friend and was perhaps my most talented student.  I believe Mithrandir could very easily persuade him to leave the Rangers for a time to be your instructor.”

            “No,” Kili repeated, a tad louder, “I will have you for my instructor.”

            “It is impossible.”

            “I do not accept that,” Kili shouted.

            “It is impossible,” Legolas repeated, struggling to keep his voice level.  “Your Uncle will never agree to an Elven instructor.  This has been an ill advised idea from the start and I should have refused Mithrandir from the beginning.”

            “You don’t mean that,” Kili said.  “I don’t know what my brother said to you, but you don’t mean that!  Gandalf has told me about you and-”

            “Mithrandir ought to have asked Strider from the start,” Legolas shouted.  “Your Uncle would have been persuaded and I would not have to risk my father’s wrath to-”

            Kili’s eyes widened, “Who is your father, Greenleaf?”

            “It is of no importance.”

            Kili took a step closer, his eyes narrowed, and repeated his question.  “Who is your father, Greenleaf?”

            Legolas tensed and resisted the urge to glance over his shoulder when he felt several of his Sindarin kin appear in response to the raised voices.  Kili froze when his eyes landed on the other Elves.

            “Greenleaf?”

            “Go home, Kili.”

            “But-”

            “Go home, Kili.”

            Kili lingered for a moment and Legolas forced himself not to look away despite the hurt and anger that burned from the dwarf’s eyes.  He went after a moment and Legolas watched him until his form disappeared into the trees.

            “Surely you knew the folly of this from the beginning, Thranduilion?”

            “It has always been a fools errand,” Legolas admitted without bothering to turn around and face his kin.

            “You knew that and continued anyway.  Why give up now?”

            “His brother was right,” Legolas admitted, “Thorin Oakenshield will never consent and this will only cause Kili further hurt.  I will find him a less objectionable instructor.  I thank you for your presence, but if you do not mind I would prefer solitude.”

            They left him in peace and Legolas found some calm in the silence and solitude.  The hurt on Kili Durin’s face plagued him, but he could not entirely regret his actions.  Kili’s brother was right.  All that was left was for Kili to tell Gandalf that Legolas had changed his mind and then he could go home.

            His solitude lasted only until first light the next morning, but it was not Gandalf who appeared as Legolas had expected.  Kili’s brother, the name of whom he could still not remember, appeared and if possible seemed angrier than his first appearance.

            “What have you done to my brother!?”

            “I said nothing to him that I am sure you or kin have not said countless times.  Thorin Oakenshield will never consent to an Elven instructor.  I will do my best to find him a less objectionable teacher.  One of my former pupil’s is a Man and I believe he will agree to take Kili as a student if I ask it.”

            Kili’s brother froze, “You said you would not teach him?”

            “I do not wish to discuss it any further.  If Kili is still hurt and angry, than I am sorry and I regret it but I saw no other possible solution.”

            He hesitated, “Kili has injured his hands.”

            Legolas stood, “What?  How?”

            “I assumed it was from archery lessons with you.  He will not let a healer tend to them.”

            “Because most salves will ruin his callouses,” Legolas explained.  He separated a small pack from his belongings and offered it to the Dwarf.  “It contains supplies I brought for your brother.  The salve will heal the damage without softening his callouses.”

            He took the bag cautiously, “He truly was not with you?”

            “Truly,” Legolas promised, “And you would do well to caution him against further practice without an instructor.”

            “He has refused to speak with me these past days,” the Dwarf admitted, “But I will do what I can.”  He hesitated further, glancing at the bag.  “Thank you for this.”

            “It is nothing,” Legolas said. 

He watched the dwarf leave and since he could not stand to simply sit around and ruminate on the situation, he spent the rest of the day visiting some of the nearby Sindarin Elves.  They seemed deeply concerned by his listlessness and insisted he remain amongst them until Mithrandir was ready to depart.  He kept himself busy helping with their harvest until one of them came to fetch him to see a visitor.  He assumed the visitor they spoke of was Mithrandir and he was absolutely stunned to see Kili Durin waiting for him at the edge of their territory.

“What are you-”

Unmitigated relief swept over his face when Legolas appeared, “I thought you gone.  Your camp was empty and I thought you left.”

“No,” Legolas said simply.  “I am still here.”  He closed most of the distance between them, “May I see your hands?”

Kili lifted his hands and Legolas ran his thumbs across his palms.  There was still a slight redness in some areas, but the salve was working well.  “You should know better than to-” His words left him when he raised his gaze and caught sight of Kili’s expression.  It was a struggle to continue, “Promise me you will wait until another instructor comes.”

“No,” Kili whispered.

“Kili-”

“I will not wait for another instructor,” he replied.  “Uncle has been persuaded to permit you to teach me.”

“What?”

“I don’t know exactly how,” Kili admitted, “But Fili spoke to him and he changed his mind.  He’s agreed.  So… will you stay, will you teach me?”

It was a bad idea.  The way Kili was looking at him and his own feelings of receptiveness ought to be more than enough to send him running in the opposite direction.  Even without the hints from his dream, Legolas knew this would only end in heartache.  But he couldn’t deny Kili.  He didn’t want to.  “Yes.  I will teach you.”

His entire face light up with happiness, “I’ll train hard.  I won’t disappoint you.”

Legolas allowed himself the indulgence of running his thumbs over the palm’s of Kili’s hand once more before releasing him.  “Don’t ever worry about disappointing me, Kili.”

Kili swallowed thickly and nodded slowly, “Very well.”

 

 <\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------->

 

            Obtaining consent from Thorin Oakenshield to train his nephew Kili did not actually give permission for their lessons to begin straight away.  As Legolas and Kili left the Sindarin and returned to Legolas’s camp, they encountered Gandalf with a summons for the Elven Archer known as Greenleaf to appear before Lord Durin.

            Kili seemed deeply nervous about the summons, though Gandalf expressed nothing beyond annoyance.  They were admitted to the city, but delivered to Lord Durin so promptly that Legolas barely saw anything.  The receiving hall was empty when they arrived except for Lord Durin, flanked by his sister, Lady Dis, on one side and her son Fili on the other. He frowned a little at Kili, shot a glare of absolute annoyance to Gandalf, but the look he reserved for Legolas was pure poison.

            “So you are the one who calls himself Greenleaf.”

            “I am.”

            “Gandalf says you are the finest archer in all of Middle Earth and an unparalleled instructor.  What compensation will you demand for these archery lessons?”

            Legolas frowned because for a moment he truly did not understand the question.  What compensation would be possibly needed for such a task?  Having a passionate student was itself all the reward Legolas required.  “Nothing.”

            Thorin somehow managed to look angrier, “Nothing?  We may be refugees, but I will not allow you to insult us by-”

            Legolas glanced at Gandalf briefly, before returning his attention to Thorin, “I beg your pardon, Lord Durin, but I do not understand what insult you refer to.”

            Thorin paused, “What?”

            Gandalf let out a sound of pure frustration, “I told you this, Thorin.  Food and lodgings will do.”

            Legolas shook his head, “I can make do with my camp.  I require nothing.”

            “Of course you will stay in the city,” Kili objected.

            “You cannot expect me to believe that he will offer instruction without payment,” Thorin snapped. 

            “Kili will be my eighth student, Lord Durin,” Legolas explained, “And I have never before demanded any compensation to share my knowledge.  I do not need to be enticed or bribed to share my skill, I do so freely.”

            Thorin was quiet for a moment, truly taken aback by the explanation.  “I see.  Very well.  You will be provided with food and lodgings for the duration of your stay here.”  His expression soured, as though the words truly pained him, “Welcome, Master Greenleaf.”

            “Thank you, Lord Durin.”

            Thorin shook his head as though he could not believe what was happening.  “Kili, he is your instructor and he will be your responsibility.  See that everything is well handled.”

            Kili beamed, “Yes, Uncle!  Come, Greenleaf.”

            No matter how he insisted he could stay outside, Kili insisted on giving Legolas a set of rooms and a tour of the city.  He was either so caught up in his excitement that he did not see the glares the passing Dwarves offered Legolas or he did not care.  They walked to the outside of the city and Legolas felt his heart drop when he saw Gandalf with his horse, all prepared to leave.

            “You will not stay, Mithrandir?”

            “I had hoped to stay for a few weeks longer, but I cannot,” he admitted.  “Unless…” he hesitated briefly, perhaps due to the uncertainty in Legolas’s voice, “Do you need me to stay?”

            Legolas shook his head, “No.  Where will you go?”

            “You wish to know if I will pass Estel?”

            Legolas nodded.

            “If I do I will give him your regards,” Gandalf promised.

            “Tell him to be careful,” Legolas said quickly, “I would hate to hear he’d been killed by an Orc.”

            Gandalf laughed, “I have yet to meet the Orc that could come close to harming Estel, but I will pass along your worry.”

            “Safe travels, Mithrandir.”

            “Goodbye, Gandalf,” Kili piped up.  “And thank you.”

            “Farewell, Greenleaf.  Kili.”

            Legolas lingered for a few moments after Gandalf departed.  He was not afraid of the Dwarves, but he suddenly felt overwhelmed with the wizard’s departure.

            “Are you well, Greenleaf?” Kili asked gently.

            Legolas nodded, “Yes.”

            He was quiet for a moment, but his stare was unblinking and Legolas couldn’t bring himself to look at him.  “Who is Estel?”

            “He is my friend that I spoke of before.  Strider.”

            “He has two names?” Kili asked.

            “Strider is what the Rangers call him.  Estel is his Elven name.”

            “You gave him an Elven name?”

            Legolas smiled a little at Kili’s tone, “Not I.  He received the name Estel from Elrond of Rivendell for he is a friend of Elves.”

            “And how did you receive the name Greenleaf?”

            Legolas was quiet for a moment, “Kili…”  It was one thing for Kili to suspect that Greenleaf was not his given name, but considering the hostility of his kin he preferred not to confirm it.  He had no doubts that he could trust Kili, but their meeting was still far too new for such confidences. 

            “Please?”

            “It is from Mithrandir from when I was a child.  I used to hide amongst the leaves in the trees whenever he would visit, standing so still I almost blended in with them, and try to surprise him.”

            The explanation made Kili smile a little, “That’s kind of cute.”

            “He was certainly amused by it.”  He paused for a moment, “Come along.  We’ll collect the supplies I left at my camp and your first lesson will be in making a bow and your own arrows.”

            They remained out in the woods for a while after the sun set, seated around a smoldering fire and talking easily.  The fire died down to embers and when Kili began to sing, Legolas would do nothing but stare.  Kili’s voice was far more compelling than in his dreams and his smile was comfortable and content when he finished the first stanza.

“Do you know that song?”

“It’s the first stanza of the only Khuzdul song to honor an Elf.”

“We hate and fear balrogs more than we dislike Elves,” he said with a cheeky smile.  “Even my Uncle sings this song and when he says the name of Glorfindel balrog killer there is respect in his eyes.  Have you ever met the balrog killer?”

“I have,” Legolas replied.

“He must be the fiercest warrior in the world to have managed such a feat,” he replied, his voice tinged with awe.

            “He is an honorable man and formidable warrior,” Legolas agreed.

            “Do you know him well?”

            Legolas hesitated briefly, “I often see him when I am in Rivendell.  However, he and my father do not particularly care for each others company.”

            “Why?”

            “They both believe the other to be exceedingly arrogant,” he smiled a little, “It’s possible that they are both correct.”

            Kili grinned a little, “Do you know how the rest of the song goes?”

            Legolas nodded.

            “And will you sing it with me?”

            “I would prefer to listen,” he smiled, “Your voice is compelling.”

            “I did not think it would compare to Elven standards.”

            “It exceeds my standards,” Legolas replied, meeting his gaze unblinkingly, “Will you sing for me?”

            Kili exhaled slowly, nodded and resumed singing quietly.  Legolas would have sat before the fire and listened to Kili sing, but with the Dwarf’s first yawn he suggested they retire for the evening.

Legolas retired to the rooms Kili had given him after the returned to the city, but he could not sleep.  He was unusually tired, but far too uncomfortable in a city of Dwarves who disliked his kind so strongly to relax enough to sleep.  He kept himself occupied most nights wandering through the library.  Kili did extremely well with making his own bow and arrow and he progressed through his lessons far faster than even Estel had managed.  A comfortable friendship developed between them, though Legolas did his best to prevent it from deepening or moving at all past mere friends.  At times he sensed Kili’s frustration with his distance, but it was for the best.  Kili was the only dwarf in the city that tolerated Legolas and he already got a lot of trouble for their association.  Legolas would not add to it.

            One morning Kili met him a few minutes late and offer a small stack of letters.  One seemed to have come by way of the Shire and the other three by way of Rivendell.  He read the one from the Shire first, pleased that Estel had found time to write him.

            “News from your friend?”

            Legolas smiled as his eyes perused the letter, “Yes, and he sends his greetings to my new student whosoever you might be.”

            Kili seemed pleased by the acknowledgment.  “He is Northern?  A Ranger, you said?”

            Legolas nodded, “Yes.”  His smile slipped a little because though the thought pleased him, he wasn’t entirely ready for Estel to meet Kili.  The Man would know.  It would be impossible to hide it from someone who was so close a friend and who had such knowledge of Elves.

            “Do you think I ever might meet him?”

            Legolas studied Kili, “You wish to?”

            Kili shrugged, “You’ve met everyone important to me.  I’m curious about the people who are important to you.”

            Legolas nodded slowly, “He mentioned that he might have some down time soon.  I will write and encourage him to come in this direction.”  Legolas tucked the letter into jacket and opened the letters marked from Rivendell, face paling as he realized that all were from his father.

            “Bad news?” Kili asked anxiously.

            “My father has had word that Mithrandir was in Rivendell and I was not with him.  He writes for me to explain where I am or return home immediately and leave Mithrandir to his foolishness.”

            “Will you?”

            Legolas froze because he wouldn’t and he had never before so completely ignored an order from his father.  “No.”

            Kili sighed slowly.

            “Though if I did leave now you would not necessary be worse for it.  You are doing well, Kili, and will not require my instruction for much longer.”

            “Do you truly think my concern is about my lessons?  You think that is the only reason I want you here?  You must know…” He said quietly.

            Legolas allowed himself the indulgence of touching Kili’s elbow and felt all the worry from his father’s missive float away.  “I know, Kili.  Believe me, I know very well.”

            It was as though the letter from his father was an omen, because Legolas soon began to notice dark circles under his eyes.  A few more days passed and when he noticed himself yawning he decided that he would go a visit his Sindarin kin for an evening and see if he might be able to sleep outside the city.  He spent the day practicing with Kili in the woods until the sun began to set.

            “It’s time for you to head home.”

            “What will you do?”

            “I thought I might go and visit my kin for an evening.”

            Kili frowned, “Why?”

            “I will be back in time for your lessons tomorrow.”

            “Do you have friends among the Elves in the Blue Mountains?”

            “Some,” Legolas admitted.

            “Just friends…or…”

            “Kili, please,” Legolas implored.  “I do not wish to argue.”

            A sharp retort seemed on the tip of Kili’s tongue, but he stilled suddenly and his frown twisted into an expression of concern, “Are you unwell?” 

The question was so earnest and in that moment Legolas knew that for all of his attempts to keep some distance between them he had utterly failed.  The thought of what Kili was to him so overwhelming and he needed to get away from the Dwarf before he spoke of things he had no right to say.

            “I will be fine in the morning.  I will see you then.”  Legolas did not wait for further arguments from Kili and disappeared into the woods.  His friends among the Sindarin welcomed eagerly and with much concern about how the dwarves were treating him.  Too tired to argue with them, Legolas retired to the room they offered him and slept deeply until breakfast.  He dreamt of Kili in his bedroom in Mirkwood, weary and hurt and even though the contents of his dream disturbed him, Legolas felt refreshed when he woke.  His kin delayed his leaving, though they seemed slightly more reassured about his health when he spoke with them in the morning and he had to rush to meet Kili on time.  He slowed to a walk as he approached the Dwarf and took his time to study him.  Kili’s eyes landed on him and he smiled and Legolas could not help but return the expression.

            “You look better,” Kili stated when Legolas greeted him.  “I did not realize how tired you were until some of the circles faded from under your eyes.  Can you not sleep in the city?”

            “It is difficult for me,” Legolas admitted. 

            “How long have you gone without rest?” Kili asked quietly, a hint of self-reproach in his tone.  “Why have you not told me you were uncomfortable?  I would have seen to it.  What can I do, Greenleaf?”

            “I require far less sleep than dwarves,” Legolas assured him.  “It is not a problem you need to concern yourself with.”

            “If you’re sure,” Kili replied finally. “Though the thought of you so uncomfortable troubles me.  I know it is not possible for you to be particularly comfortable here, but I would not have you suffer.”

            Legolas smiled a little, “If you have time to be troubled, I’m clearly not working you hard enough.”

            Kili returned the smile and they returned to training without further discussion. 

            Teaching Kili was simple and Legolas had no doubt that when their time together ended he would be a formidable archer.  It was a cross between determination and natural talent and even his kin seemed amazed by his progress on the few times one of them would appear to observe his lessons.  Most often it was his mother and occasionally his brother, and it was nearly two full months before Thorin Oakenshield appeared.

            “Greenleaf.”

            “Lord Durin.”

            “How goes it?”

            “Well.  And how are you?”

            “Tolerable,” was the short reply.  He said nothing more for a while as he observed his nephew at practice.  “I see the reports on his skill with a bow are not exaggerated.”

            “He is progressing well,” Legolas admitted.

            “Gandalf spoke the truth when he praised your skills as an instructor.”

            Legolas inclined his head in response to the compliment.  “Whatever my skill is it would be useless without your nephew’s passion.”

            “I have repeatedly second guessed my decision to allow this to proceed.  I am glad I did not refuse Kili.”  He turned away from Kili and studied Legolas and though he still seemed deeply wary, there was none of the usual blatant hostility in his tone or expression.  “You are still young for an Elf, are you not?”

            “Yes,” Legolas admitted.

            “Around Kili’s age.”

            Legolas couldn’t help a small smile, “In years I am significantly older than Kili, but it terms of development I am perhaps only slightly older than him.”

            “I see,” Thorin remarked slowly.  “You seen fond of my nephew.  There is a friendship and trust between you.  I had not thought that possible between our kind.”

            Legolas considered his words carefully, “I cannot blame you for that thought.”

            “So you know of what transpired between the Dwarves of Erebor and the Elves of Mirkwood?”

            “I know that the Elves of Mirkwood merely guarded your escape from Erebor when your treaty with them required far more proactive engagement when you were attacked,” Legolas admitted.

            Thorin stared at him in surprise, “You think Thranduil did wrong?”

            It was difficult for him to speak so strongly against his father, but he could not bring himself to lie to Thorin.  “Yes.  I think he made the wrong decision.”

            “You are a constant surprise, Greenleaf.  Are you considered something of an oddity among your people?  For you consort with Wizards and Dwarves and I am told claim a Ranger as your closest friend.”

            “Yes, though many would place the blame for that entirely on Mithrandir.  My father would prefer I avoid Mithrandir all together and thinks the friendship a poor choice, but he has yet to forbid it.  It is possible that I not considered totally scandalous for the company I keep because of my skill with a bow or my age.  My people consider me very young.  I am one of the youngest among us and therefore rather indulged.  Such things are still excusable at my age, I suppose.  My father-” he hesitated briefly, “He would rather I remain among my people.”

            “Indeed.  That, at least, I can understand.  Though it does pain me to admit to having something in common with an Elf, if he is your father and he raised a son such as you I suppose he cannot be all bad.  Its…difficult… for me to imagine my sister sons joining me in battle.  Especially Kili.  He is the youngest of my line, he’s special.  But I think you know that very well, do you not Greenleaf?”

            “Uncle!” Kili called in surprise, leaving off his practice to join them.  “Have you been here long?”

            Legolas kept quiet and simply watched them interact, too stunned by Thorin’s words to speak.  Between the compliment to his father and the comments about Kili, Legolas was not entirely sure what Thorin was trying to communicate to him.

            Thorin smiled so openly that even Kili seemed taken a back, “Long enough to see how much you have improved under Greenleaf’s tutelage.  I am impressed.  And I am proud of you.  You were right to fight so hard for this.”           

            Kili’s eyes widened, “Thank you, Uncle.”

            “I will go now,” Thorin said, “But I will see both of you at the evening meal.”

            Thorin’s lack of open hostility towards Legolas did much to temper how the other dwarves treated him.  He was still not comfortable enough to sleep in the city, but he felt more at ease moving around without Kili and even exchanged a few polite words with some of the dwarves he regularly saw in the library.

            “Good evening, Greenleaf.  I am Balin.  Can I help you find anything?”

            Legolas smiled at the white haired dwarf, “I am just browsing.”

            “You are welcome to take out anything that catches your fancy,” he replied.  “There is a ledger on the front desk and you need only make note of your name and which tome your borrowed.”

            “Thank you,” Legolas replied.  “I will be sure to do so.”

            Balin inclined his head and wished him a good evening before departing.  Legolas took his time choosing a collection of Dwarven fairytales and signed out the book as Balin had instructed before retiring back to his room until Kili came to find him in the morning. 

First light found him working through the usual exercises in the woods with Kili when he abruptly realized they were not alone.  It was not the feeling of someone approaching, but rather the sudden and alarming sense that someone was very close.  Legolas grabbed ahold of Kili and shoved the dwarf behind him, swinging around and notching an arrow as an Elf slipped from the words.  It was only when the Elf was a little closer that Legolas lowered his bow in shock.

Glorfindel bowed and Legolas inclined his head at the gesture.  The older Elf approached and glanced at Kili briefly before dismissing him and turning his attention to Legolas and speaking in Sindarin.

“So it is true.”

“What interest do you have in this that you would travel so far to verify if it is true or not?”

Glorfindel raised an unimpressed eyebrow at Legolas, “Your father sent Lord Elrond a rather sharply worded letter demanding to know where Mithrandir had abandoned you and your Sindarin kin wrote to Elrond with concerns and I can see that they are not entirely unfounded.  You are not sleeping.”

“They wrote to Elrond!?”

“Be glad they did not write to your father, Princeling.  And before you ask, Elrond sent back an equally snotty letter to your father without actually revealing any knowledge of your location.  But what is this?  What mischief has Mithrandir dragged you into now?”

“It is not mischief,” Legolas disagreed.  “This is my student.”

Glorfindel laughed and spoke in Westron, “You have taken a Dwarf as your pupil?  You have Elves and Men alike begging for your instruction and you chose a Dwarf?”

Legolas spoke before Kili could, “Do not imply he is unworthy.  I take such an insult against him as an insult against myself.”

“Do you?”

“I do,” Legolas confirmed.

Glorfindel shook his head, “My boy, what are you doing?  Do you not understand the trouble you are causing for yourself?  Even if word of your involvement is kept quiet for a time, all who see him will know you trained him.  Your father knows you are not with Mithrandir. Allow me to escort you back to Rivendell and I will have a company see you home before he comes overly curious.”

“I cannot.”

Glorfindel raised an eyebrow and spoke in Sindarin again, “And what will you have me say when he sends Tauriel and a company of the guard to Rivendell to demand the location of his only heir?”

“I do not know,” Legolas admitted.  “I will write him with some excuse that may pacify him for I would hate to cause any trouble for Lord Elrond, but I will not leave until Kili’s training is finished.  I cannot-” He switched back into Sindarin not entirely because he did not wish Kili to hear his words but because he could not explain himself fully in Westron.  “I will stay until my presence has no purpose, until he sends me away.  I am unsure if I can actually leave him at this point.  I know I cannot remain here and he cannot come with me. When it is time for me to return home I will…I will go.  My heart will stay behind, but I will make myself leave.”

Glorfindel’s eyes widened, “No.”

“It cannot be helped, Glorfindel.  I think it will be easier when he can better protect himself and than maybe the weight on my chest will ease a little.”

“Glorfindel?” Kili spoke up, more from beside Legolas than behind him, his eyes round with surprise.  “You are Glorfindel balrog killer?”

Glorfindel turned his attention back to Kili for the first time since the conversation had begun.  “I am.  And you are?”

“Kili Durin.”

For a moment Legolas thought Glorfindel would laugh again, but he merely shook his head.  “You don’t do things by half, do you little one?”

Legolas shrugged, “I suppose not.”

Glorfindel inclined his head, “Well met, Kili Durin.”

Kili’s eyes widened in surprise but he returned the gesture, “Well met, balrog killer.”

Glorfindel’s lips twitched towards a smile at the address, “How do you find your instructor, Kili Durin?”

“Greenleaf is an excellent instructor,” Kili said.

Glorfindel eyes widened, “You permit him to call you Greenleaf?”

“What else should I call him?” Kili asked.

Glorfindel ignored his question, “I never before heard anyone except Mithrandir and Estel refer to you so casually.”

Legolas sighed because though he did not dislike the other elf, he really just wanted him to go away and wasn’t sure what he might say to make him depart.  “My kin ought not to have bothered Lord Elrond.  I hope when you return you will assure him that I am perfectly fine where I am.”

“Are you sure I cannot persuade you to return with me?” Glorfindel asked gently.  “At this early stage it is possible that Lord Elrond can-”

“It is too late for that and I would not permit it anyway.  I will return when I am finished,” Legolas replied, “I will break my journey in Rivendell before I return home.  I will see you then.”

Glorfindel nodded and before he departed he pinned a hard look on Kili, “You know not what manner of gift you have been given, Dwarf.  You cannot possibly understand the price.  Endeavor to always deserve it.”

Legolas ignored Kili’s stare for a while after Glorfindel had gone.  “Do you really have dozens of Elves and Men begging for your instruction?”

“Glorfindel exaggerates.”

“But he did not lie.”

“No,” Legolas admitted, “He did not lie.”

“So your instruction is a gift,” Kili said slowly.  “Is that what he meant?”

“I suppose.”

“You know that I value and appreciate you, right?” Kili asked earnestly.  “I would never do anything to cause you any harm and I would never admit it was you who taught me if it might get you into any trouble.”  He hesitated, “Are you sure your father would disapprove?  We once thought my Uncle would never consent to these lessons, but he did.  Perhaps your father-”

“No,” Legolas said.  “I do not wish to discuss my father.”

“Or where you come from.  Or even your name,” Kili said, “Do you not trust me?”

“I trust you implicitly,” Legolas said quietly.  “But I have a right to my secrets, Kili.”

Kili’s shoulders dropped, “And when my instruction is finished you’ll leave and go to your home and I’ll never be able to find you because not only do I not know where it is, I do not know your name.”

“What would you have me do, Kili?  What other way could this possibly end?”

Kili took a small step closer, “Greenleaf… do you not feel…do you not wish…”

“I do.  Of course I do,” Legolas admitted, “But-”

“I would kiss you now.”

Legolas froze, “Kili…”

Kili met his gaze evenly, “Greenleaf.”

Legolas exhaled slowly, “This will only make it harder.”

“I consider it the next step in my long term plan to make you fall in love with me.”

Legolas shook his head, “You have a plan to make me fall in love with you?”

“Yes,” Kili admitted, “Because from the moment I saw you, I knew I would have to work hard to get you to look at me.  But it is still in the early stages of implementation so you cannot-”

“You do not need such a plan, Kili,” Legolas said gently.

Kili’s mouth tightened in determination, “I know that Dwarves and Elves do not usually take up together, but I love you and I will do whatever I can to convince you to give me a chance.”

Legolas slid his hand around the back of Kili’s neck, halting whatever else the dwarf and planned to say.  “Your plan is worthless.”

“Because it is hopeless?” Kili breathed.

“Because you need not put in any effort to garner my affection.  You have it already,” Legolas admitted.

“Greenleaf…”

“But it is a fantasy, Kili,” he said gently.  “It is a dream.  It is impossible.”

“I don’t believe that.”

“You don’t know my name.”

“So tell me,” Kili challenged, “Tell me and I will prove that it means nothing.  Your name cannot possibly change how I feel about you.”

“You are mistaken.  You will hate me.”

“No!” Kili insisted.  “I could not.”

“Kili, I would finish your lessons and end this with us still friends.  If you know my name-”

“Do you truly think me so fickle?” Kili demanded, a hint of hurt he could not quite conceal in his tone.

“Even Mithrandir cautioned me to keep my true name to myself,” Legolas replied.

“I wish to know,” Kili insisted.  “And after you tell me you are going to feel terribly silly when nothing changes.”

“Legolas Thranduilion.”

Legolas did not mean to speak his name and did not entirely realized he had said it aloud until he registered how Kili’s face had frozen.

“Thranduilion?” he whispered.

Legolas let his hand drop from Kili’s neck, “Yes.”

“Thranduilion,” he repeated, his eyes downcast.  “Of course.  Gandalf said you were the best archer in all of Middle Earth.  Of course you are Legolas Thranduilion.  I should have…  It’s obvious.  I should have known.”

“Kili…”

“I love you.  I don’t care,” his eyes flew up to meet Legolas.  “I love you,” he repeated.

“But it still changes everything,” Legolas said gently.

“No,” Kili said, “No, it doesn’t have to.  I’ll go with you when you leave.  We can leave the Blue Mountains and no one will care about Mirkwood and Erebor-”

“You would leave your kin?  The point of these lessons was to aid the quest to retake Erebor.  You would give that up?”

Kili froze, “Greenleaf…I would go if you asked me to.”

“I would never ask that of you, Kili.  Not when I know how unhappy it would make you.”

He swallowed thickly, “So what will we do?”

“I will continue your instruction until you are a master archer.  And then I will go.”

“As simple as that?”

“It may sound simple, Kili,” Legolas said sharply, “But do not mistake that for easy.  You have no idea-”

“That’s what Glorfindel meant.  The gift.  It wasn’t knowledge, it was love.”

“Yes,” Legolas confirmed.

He swallowed thickly, “And then I will never see you again.”

“Perhaps not,” Legolas admitted, “My father rarely permits my absence from Mirkwood.  And when you retake Erebor… he will not likely be in a visiting mood.  But I still have hope.”

“I feel like I’ve been punched in the chest,” Kili admitted hoarsely. 

“I know,” Legolas agreed.  He placed both of his hands on Kili’s shoulders and allowed himself the indulgence of brushing his fingertips against the dwarf’s hair.  “We have until I leave,” Legolas said gently.  “I will do my best to leave you with a skill that will protect you in my stead.”

“Its not enough,” Kili said quietly, “But it is still better than nothing.”

Legolas nodded, though Kili’s words were not entirely true.  While he had maintained some hope that he would be able to leave Kili unharmed, he now knew that to be possible.  He had no idea how long it would take, but Legolas knew then that once he left the Blue Mountains he would begin to fade. 

Little changed between them as the lessons continued.  Kili was a little freer with casual touches and was content to linger with Legolas in the woods long after his lessons had ended.  Had he not know it would all too soon come to an end; Legolas would have been entirely comfortable.

 

 <\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------->

 

Lady Dis joined them the day after Glorfindel’s visit, and like her brother she seemed content to assure herself that Kili was advancing in his lessons before turning her attention to Legolas.  Her gaze was as direct as her brother’s and though it was not openly hostile, Legolas could sense that she was troubled.  She did not fully share her brother’s anger towards Elves and he was curious as to the source her unease.  Kili paused to wave to her before returning his attention to his targets and Lady Dis smiled.

“I would know why you agreed to this, Master Greenleaf.”

“I had no reason to deny Gandalf,” he replied.  “The last time he asked me to take on a student it developed into a lifelong friendship and I was eager for another such opportunity.”

Her eyes narrowed slightly, “Even with a Dwarf?”

“I did not know my student would be a Dwarf until much later,” Legolas admitted.

“Yet you did not turn around?”

“I could not,” Legolas admitted, because there was something in the intensity in her gaze that prevented him with skirting around the truth.  “My feet became bound to this path and I could not step off it until I arrived.”

“So you came here,” she replied, “And remained when my brother would not let you in the city despite that you could have then gone home.”

“By that point I had met Kili and I wished to stay.”

Lady Dis turned her attention back to Kili, “He never does anything the easy way.”

“How do you mean?”

“I think you know how I mean,” she replied pointedly.  “But whatever the two of you have planned, I will give you my support because after all the misery we’ve experienced I want nothing more than to see my sons happy.  Good day.”

Legolas watched her until she was outside of sight, so lost in thought that he did not realize Kili had joined him until the Dwarf spoke, “What did my mother say?”

Legolas blinked.

“Only you look unhappy,” Kili continued.

“I never knew my mother.”

Kili’s eyes widened.

“I have no memories of her,” Legolas admitted.  “Whatever happened to her occurred when I was still a babe.  But your mother…” He exhaled slowly.  “She loves you very much.  You are lucky in your family, Kili.”

“Greenleaf…”

“I apologize,” he said, “This is not the time and I have let my thoughts wander in an unproductive direction.”

“If you want to talk…”

“Hit the center of your next target.”

“What?”

Legolas cupped his cheek briefly, “Hit the center of your next target.”

“But I’ve never managed the dead center,” he said, “I’m not that good yet.”

“You are,” Legolas insisted.  “Show me.”

Legolas watched Kili as he moved to take aim at the far off target.  Much like the time he had sung, this too occurred just as it had in his dream. 

He stepped forward and rested his hands on Kili’s shoulders, “Relax.”  Legolas took a small step backwards.  “Inhale deeply and slowly as you take aim.  There is nothing else but this.  Exhale slowly and release the bowstring.”

Kili followed the command, lowering his bow only when the arrow struck the exact center of the target.  He was still for a moment longer, more out of surprise than anything else.  It was the first time he had managed such accuracy, but neither of them could summon the energy to be particularly happy about it.  Kili’s progress had come to mark a pronounced quiet between them were previously each success had been celebrated.  Legolas forced himself to laugh quietly, “Very good.  You are improving exponentially.”  Still he did not turn around and Legolas tilted his head a little.  When his inquiry was ignored, Legolas shifted to stand in front of Kili and met his dark brown eyes.

“What is it?”

“I’d feign incompetence if only it might keep you here for a little longer.”

Legolas reached out and caught one of the dark braids between his fingers.  “I cannot-”

“I know.  But when you go you’ll be taking my heart with you.”

“Then you will never be without one, for when I depart I shall leave my own behind in your care.”

“I want to be with you away from here.”

“Kili…”

“Just for a few days.  We’ll go deep into the forest and camp,” he closed most of the distance between him, his expression hopeful, “Please?  I know that I have little time left with you and I would have you to myself as much as possible.”

Legolas found himself agreeing and once they’d received permission from Thorin they headed out for a few days in the deep, isolated areas of the forest.  He did not allow Kili to completely forgo his training and practice, but he was far more lenient than he had ever been and they spent far more time at leisure than usual.

Kili sang again as they sat before a fire after their evening meal, his gaze intense when Legolas joined him.  When the song ended he simply stared at the Elf for a while. “Would you rebuff my touch?”

Though he knew he probably ought to, the truth was he could not imagine denying Kili anything and he shook his head no.  Kili closed most of the distance between them and kissed him.  Legolas allowed the kiss to proceed for a moment before pulling Kili closer to him.  Kili griped his shoulders.  “I thought I would have to persuade you.  You have worked so hard to keep some distance between us and-”

Legolas kissed him again, “Only to spare us what will come with separation, but do not doubt how I feel for you.  I cannot change that you are Kili Durin and I am Legolas Thranduilion and we are not free to do as we will, but it is too difficult for me to hold myself away from you.”

Kili’s hands went to the laces on his shirt, his expression questioning.  When Legolas nodded Kili set about removing every article of clothing both of them wore.  Long after they’d finished and Kili spent curled against his side, Legolas remained awake.  It was not that he was too uncomfortable to sleep, but he wanted this memory of Kili at his side and would not give it up for sleep or anything else.

Kili began to shift in his sleep as morning approached and he woke shortly after first light.  He pressed a kiss to Legolas’s throat.  “Could you not sleep?”

“I was not tired.”

“You must have been bored.”

“No,” Legolas corrected.  “You are never boring, Kili.”

“I do not know what I will do when you go,” he admitted.

“On the days that you feel lonely go outside and look at the stars and know that even though I am so far away, I too am gazing up at the same stars.”

They returned to the city nearly a week later and over the next few days it was obvious to both of them that Legolas’s time as his instructor was coming to an end.  Kili had learned all that Legolas could teach him and the rest would come only with experience. Yet he lingered, sharing everything he possibly could with the Dwarf.  Kili was subdued, but still attentive.

            Legolas was struggling with how to leave, how to stay goodbye, when one day Estel appeared.  Legolas was outside the city, taking a solitary walk when he saw the Man.  Estel grinned wildly, dismounting his horse and offering a half joking salute.  Legolas returned the smile and pulled the man in for an embrace.

            “That I get to see you again so soon is a gift, Estel.”

            Estel smiled, “How do you fare, Greenleaf?  I could hardly believe your letter that you had a Dwarven student, but it must be true for you to be so close to the city.  Can I meet him?”

            Legolas nodded, “Yes, but there is something you must know first.  And I need your help with something.”

            “How can I help?”

            Legolas exhaled slowly, “I am not sure I can leave and I need your assistance.  If you can get me to the other side of the Shire, I can manage to Rivendell.”

Estel’s expression turned thunderous, “Are you a prisoner here?”

            “Nothing of the sort,” Legolas said quickly, “But I cannot bring myself to leave even though my task is well and done.”

            Estel tilted his head, “Why?  Are you so unhappy in Mirkwood?”

            “No.  Not exactly.”  Legolas looked at Estel and suddenly realized that his friend would probably understand far better than anyone.  “I am in love.  I know once I leave I will begin to wane.”

            Understanding and then sorrow spread over Estel’s features, “Oh, Greenleaf.  Is it unreciprocated?”

            Legolas had the wild urge to laugh, but managed to contain himself and simply shook his head.  “It is not.”

            “Then what?”

            “He his bound to his life here and the struggles of his kin and I am Thranduilion.”

            “You are not a boy in your father’s shadow, Greenleaf,” Estel objected.

            “His kin would never allow it and neither would mine.”

            “Your father would let you wane?”

            Legolas was quiet for a moment, “He would have a healer severe the connection.”

            “But your heart would die.”

            “Yet I would be alive and without the distasteful connection to a Dwarf of Erebor,” Legolas replied, imagining his father’s words.  “Regardless, I will not permit it.”

            Estel exhaled sharply, “Than you will die.”

            “Not immediately.  He has not rejected me, so it will take the long decades of separation before I fade away.”

            “I cannot stand this,” Estel bit out.  “There must be something.”

            “Perhaps.  There is a sliver of hope,” Legolas admitted, “But it will take time and more luck than I believe any of us posses.”

            “Greenleaf…”

            Legolas tilted his head, a soft smile spreading over his features, as he sensed Kili’s approach, “He comes.  Will you meet him with friendship?  For my sake?”

            “I will,” Estel agreed.

            Kili slowed, his eyes landing on Estel.  His expression was bright with curiosity, but he waited for Legolas to speak.  “Kili Durin, meet Estel.”

            Kili’s smiled and offered his hand, “Well met, Estel.”

            Estel hesitated long enough for Kili’s smile to falter before he grasped his hand.  “Well met.  I am Aragorn, son of Arathorn.”

            Kili’s mouth opened in surprise, “What?”  His eyes darted to Legolas, “But… I didn’t…You never said your friend was the heir of Gondor!”

            “Because it is a great secret!” Legolas replied, “What are you-”

            “You asked me to meet him in friendship,” Estel replied, “I give him the same friendship I give to you, Greenleaf.  With who he is to you, I cannot meet him any other way.”

            Legolas exhaled slowly, “Estel… Aragorn…”

            “You know that I understand far better than anyone else might,” his eyes lingered on Kili, “I know what it is to love one of the Elfkind.  I will do whatever I can to help.  If there is a future for you, I will fight for it.  You have my sword.  I so vow.”

            Wonder and something that was almost hope spread across Kili’s features, “Thank you, Aragorn.”  He swallowed thickly, “Will you go with him?”

            Legolas fought to keep his expression composed, “I thought I might.”

            Kili nodded, “Good.  I am not sure I could let you go otherwise.”

            Legolas kissed his forehead gently, “Then I will go.  Keep yourself safe.”

            Kili tangled his hands in Legolas’s hair, “I will make some excuse for my Uncle.  Safe travels, Greenleaf.”

            Legolas kissed his mouth firmly before nodding to Estel.  The Man retook his seat atop his mount and offered a hand to Legolas.  He watched until Kili was so far from his sight that he could no longer sense him.  Estel escorted him all the way to Rivendell and did his best to ease his hurt.  Elrond met him when he arrived in the city, his eyes wide with surprise.

            “When Glorfindel told me I was sure he must be mistaken.”

            “If you mean to express disapproval-”

            “It is not my place and even if it were I do not disapprove,” he said quickly.  “Will you severe it?”

            “No,” Legolas replied, “Not while I still have hope.”

            “You think there is a chance for happiness in the future?”

            “It is a slim one,” Legolas conceded, “But I would not give it up for anything.”

            “Even your life?” Elrond questioned.

            “What is life with a dead heart?” Legolas replied rhetorically. 

            Elrond inclined his head in agreement, “You should know that Tauriel is here.  I may have implied that you were with the Rangers.”  He inclined his head, “Best of luck, Legolas Thranduilion.”

            “Thank you, Lord Elrond.”

            Legolas found Tauriel and pointedly refused to answer any of her questions or to speak at all except to apologize for troubling her and thank her for the escort home.  Her countenance softened a little and though she did not question him, it was obvious that he was not the same Elf who had set out from Mirkwood all those months ago.  She shook her head.

            “I wish you would not let Mithrandir drag you into these adventures, Prince.”

            Legolas smiled a little, “I think this will be the last one for some time, Tauriel.  It is time to return home.”

            The road home was quiet and Legolas did his best to hide the faint tremors that had appeared in his hands, worsening the further they traveled from the Blue Mountains.  The shaking was almost as devastating as separating from Kili.  What if he could never again manage a bow?

            The company slowed as they reached the Old Ford over the Great River and a solitary Elf stood waiting for them.  He was dressed in the garb of Lorien and as the company approached his gaze when directly to Legolas.

            “Hail, Thranduilion,” he bowed.

            “Lord Haldir,” Legolas dismounted.  “Do you travel to see my father?”

            “I do not.  I have been sent to speak with you, if you will allow it.”

            “Of course I will.”

            “Privately,” he added, his gaze flickering to Tauriel and the company of Elves standing behind Legolas.

            “Highness,” Tauriel began.

            Legolas shook his head, “There is no need for concern.   I will return soon.”

            Haldir followed Legolas south along the river.  They kept quiet for long moments, until they were both sure that they beyond the hearing of the other Elves.  Most of Haldir’s formality bled away into concern.

            “The paranoia of your father has increased of late if you cannot even be trusted to speak with an old friend without the presence of his guards,” Haldir commented.

            Legolas shrugged, “It is unlikely that he is amused by my prolonged absence from Mirkwood.”

            “Youngling.”

            Legolas sighed because while there was no reprimand in his tone, it was obvious that Haldir was very well aware of where he had been and was concerned, “I see Glorfindel wasted little time in apprising you of my fall from grace.”  It shouldn’t surprise him.  Haldir and Glorfindel had few secrets between them.

            “Do you really see it that way?”

            “No,” Legolas replied, “But everyone else will.”

            “It is true that Glorfindel told me about your student and what developed between you,” Haldir admitted after a moment.  “Perhaps he thought you might listen to your old teacher.  I would not see you fade, Legolas.”

            “It is possible…”

            “I serve the Lady of Light,” Haldir replied a tad sharply, “I know that the future you pin your hopes on is all but impossible.  Even if they retake Erebor and survive the quest, do you really think that your father will see you wasted on a Dwarf of Durin’s line?”

            “Long have you been my friend and confidant, Haldir,” Legolas said, “But even from you I will not accept such words about him.”

            Haldir met his gaze evenly, “I do not approve, Legolas,” he said simply.  “I cannot imagine there is a Dwarf deserving such loyalty from you.  I cannot bear that you would condemn yourself to fade.”

            “It is possible-”

            “What?” Haldir challenged, “That you might die from the poison of time and age instead of fading?  You will still be dead.”

            “If I have lost your friendship because of my love for Kili Durin than I will always lament it,” he said quietly, “But I have chosen my path, I did not turn away when I could have, and I do not regret it.”

            Haldir shook his head, “You will always have my friendship and my support, but I give it with a heavy heart.”

            “Thank you.”  Legolas tilted his head a little, “You said earlier that you had been sent?”

            “You have more than just my support, Legolas.  The Lady of Light has seen the future you pin your hopes on.  You may consider her your ally.”

 

 <\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------->

 

            Thorin found the younger of his sister sons standing in the first part of the forest before the city, looking as though the very heart and been ripped from his body.  Sighing, Thorin moved to stand beside his nephew.

            “So, he is gone then?”

            Kili startled badly, “I- yes…” he looked around in surprise at the setting sun, “He had to return home immediately.  He begs your pardon for the abrupt departure.”  He rubbed his eyes, “I did not realize it was so late.”

            “Hmm.”  Thorin wrapped an arm around Kili’s shoulders.  “I am in no position to do anything, Kili,” Thorin admitted quietly.  “I have no sway, no power and no leverage.  But one day that will change.  One day soon we will return to our home, we will retake Erebor and I will do everything in my power to see you settled happily.  I promise.”

            “I did not know it would feel like this,” Kili whispered.  “Like a thief stole the beating heart from my chest and somehow I am meant to go on with it.”

            Thorin frowned, “Kili…?”

            Kili blinked, “I’m sorry, Uncle.  My mind wandered.  What were you saying?”

            Thorin’s eyes narrowed, “You heard none of what I said?”

            Kili lowered his eyes, “I apologize.”

            “It is of no matter,” Thorin said slowly, his concern deepening at his nephew’s uncharacteristic inattention.  “I am glad I did not let my pride get in the way of this, Kili,” Thorin said.  A teasing smile spread over his features and he brushed his thumb against Kili’s nonexistence beard.  “Don’t suppose I’ll ever make a proper Dwarf out of you now.”

            Kili laughed, beginning to leave his stupor behind.

            “Come on.”

            “Home?” Kili asked.

            “Not yet,” Thorin said, his gaze moving to the city.  “But soon.  We’ll be home soon.”


End file.
